Dark Blaze
by purple-psychopath
Summary: Bellatrix LeStrange lives a lifestyle not many witches do, she is one of the few female Death Eaters. She finds herself seduced by dark magic and thirsting for each new high, torture is her favourite drug. This story is for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition.


**The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition**  
**BEATER 2- ROUND 4**

Prompt 7 – Electric (word)

Optional Prompts:

3. Danger

5. Addiction

14. Black

* * *

This was not the life mother had wanted for me. She had looked at me and seen her elegant dutiful pureblood daughter, her Slytherin daughter who had made a good marriage to a pureblood man. She wanted me to become a good pureblood mother to many pureblooded children. This life would not be what mother wanted, but what she wanted didn't matter, she was dead and it was the fault of all these filthy mudbloods. The very least I could do is avenge her, "Crucio!"

The trash writhes and screams before my wand, filthy murderous beast. I lower my wand and admire how its body convulses before me. My heart pumps with adrenaline as I stand in the darkened brick and mortar shack, the lights of battle flashing around me, a crash of thunder echoes through the hovel. My prey begins to drag herself across the floor, with a twirl of my wand and a smirk I have her stilled, cowering from my superior form. I send yet another brief yellow light.

"Oh Bellatrix, stop playing with your toys and kill it already."

"Yes Rodolphus." And then, "Avada Kedavra."

Mother might not have approved of the life I live, but she certainly would have approved the cause. Besides, I was only 24, I had plenty of time for children later. My mark prickles with excitement, _**His**_ mark; the handsome Lord descended from Slytherin, he who finally took up the cause to cleanse our world.

A door crashes open and four people rush in, I raise my wand instantly to attack but pause at their pureblood faces, 'Allies?' the brief thought is dashed when they raise their wands against us. Mother would not have wanted me to slay pure blood, it is only when Rodolphus falls to a stunner that I think of what father would say, 'Bloodtraitors are no better than mudbloods.'

I begin to fire back at them; their spells whip by narrowly as I duck, dodge, and shield my way across the room to my fallen husband. He's unconscious on the floor, a small dribble of blood stemming from his temple where he hit his head. I shield his body with my own as I continue to volley spells back across the room. I keep looking for the slightest window of time to re-enervate Rodolphus, but the blood-traitors' spells are too fast, and just as I finally manage to fell one, another three hurry into the room.

Now that we're outnumbered Rabastan and Dolohov, the cowards, apparate away, leaving me alone against four others. My blood surges as I cast spell after spell, chaining them into long curse streams. Each Crucio that hits its mark sends a sickly sweet rush of heady thrill through my body. My sweaty robes cling to my skin as I dance around the spell lit room casting.

I can feel the flow of power running through my muscles, each spell I cast sends another jolt. The static of my fight drives my hair into a frizzy volume; a brief flash of lightning illuminates the room. I fly into frenzy at the sight of their beautifully horrified faces, the room we battle in is spattered with muddy blood and the bodies of the mudblood animals. The room has blackened again when I snark, "Awhhh, has the wittle itty bitty babies never been to a swaughter house befowe?"

Just like little children would, they pause in offense. The momentary reprieve is too long for them. "Diffindo, Avada Kedavra, CRUCIO!" One dies as their head flies off, the next with a flash of green, the third crumples in agony with a shriek. I giggle madly and embrace the happy darkness that engulfs me. I _**love**_ the battlefield; be it in a meadow, a forest, or a shack like this.

With my head swimming through the dazed and flush high all this killing had induced, I barely noticed as my would be fourth victim raised his wand. What I did notice was the sickly green light headed towards me, I dove for cover behind a chair, "MURDERER! You might have killed me!"

Hiding behind the chair I quickly re-enervated Rodolphus before jumping out and continuing my attack. I sent hex after curse after spell at my foe, unfortunately the time I took to revive Rodolphus was enough for the blood-traitor I had previously Crucio'd to rise up and rejoin the fight. While Rodolphus was still coming to my lungs screamed and gasped for each new breath, my stamina was beginning to run out, and though they were exhausted themselves, my enemies were faring better.

Locked in a duel with the first, I heard Rodolphus begin to rise to rejoin our scrap. However the second enemy had taken the gift of time and brought another of their team back to consciousness. The flashes of our combatting spells echoed the lightning flares from outside; likewise each impact of our battle harmonized with the booming thunder.

My muscles were shaking from over exertion; this skirmish had gone on long enough. Though I longed to stay and finish this battle, the chances we would win were draining. 'Stay long enough to die, and the war is lost.' Father had taught us, 'Retreat when the tide turns, and you'll defeat the enemy another day.' I reached for my husband, and despite knowing better, I couldn't resist but to send off another attack before apparating, "CRUCIO!"

The bloodtraitor crumpled in visceral agony as I held him under my spell a moment longer. I gasped in triumph at the flush of pleasure that rolled through my body, highlighting my nerves with an erotic pulse. Now satisfied, I grasped Rodolphus' arm firmly; with a half turn and a _**crack**_, we were gone.

I burst into a fit of laughter the moment my feet touched the cool marble floors of our manor, and sinking to my knees I shook, racked with the glowing embers of excitement. This was not what mother would have wanted for me; the fight, the killing, the blood. But she had not lived to see its glory; the exhilaration, the righteous pride that came with cleansing our world, the intoxicating magic, but most of all the thrill of war. It was electric.


End file.
